


Falling: Or In This Case, The Combustion of Harry Potter

by scarheadedferret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confessions, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-War, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarheadedferret/pseuds/scarheadedferret
Summary: Ron is certain Harry is in love with a certain Slytherin. Harry is... more certain than he'd like to be, and that might just be the end of him.





	Falling: Or In This Case, The Combustion of Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of based off of a real interaction I had with my friend, just the first part though- and sadly, unlike Harry, I'm still in that state of simultaneously realizing and dying T-T. This is the first time I've posted on here in a while, and I don't know how I managed to crawl out of writer's block to do this but here it is.

“So I _might’ve_ tucked his hair behind his ear and he smiled and-“

“Sounds like your falling”

“Wh-  _ falling? _ It’s just a crush, Ron, I don’t  _ love _ him,” Harry stated, brows scrunching together when Ron rolled his eyes. “That’s ridiculous!”

“Nope, you’re gone,” Ron said. “All the way down,” He said, making a motion with his arm, holding his hand up in the air, and then bring it down with a whistle and dramatic flourish. Harry’s eyes widened and he grabbed Ron’s hand.

“No! Look- still up there- just a crush,” Harry cried, forcing Ron’s hand back upwards. Ron shook his head with a chuckle.    
  
“You’re totally gone, mate,” Ron said, removing his hand from Harry’s grasp. Harry sighed and slumped against the wall in defeat. 

“You’re wrong,” he moaned dejectedly. Ron patted Harry’s head comfortingly with a sympathetic smile.

“You’re alright,” Ron said, and his eyes widened with shock when Harry looked back up at him through his own eyes that were wet with tears. 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Harry mumbled with a sniff and Ron was quickly wrapping his arms around him. 

“Oh- You’re ok, mate! I didn’t mean to make you cry- I’m gonna get Hermione- I’ll be right back, oh crap-” Ron said quickly, and Harry laughed wetly at his friend’s haste concern. Ron stepped away after one last squeeze of his arms and went off to presumably go get their best friend. Harry sighed and rested his head on his knees. He truly felt pathetic- why did he have to love  _ Draco?  _ The person who was probably  _ least _ likely to ever love him back.

***

With the war over the two had formed an unlikely friendship during their 8th year- and after many study sessions and seeker’s games together Harry had found himself slowly crushing on the witty and gorgeous blond. But following one too many spiels to Ron on how pretty Draco’s eyes were- and how even the lightest touch of Draco’s hand against his own sent his heart into a flurry- both Ron- and eventually Harry, had realized that what he was feeling was far more than a simple crush. 

He  _ loved  _ Draco. And the realization crashed down on him like an ocean wave in a storm.

Harry loved how resilient and brave Draco had become; holding his chin high, and determined to better himself after his mistakes in the war: refusing to let others bring him down for it. How remorseful he had become- apologizing to all of his peers within the first month of the school year. How strong he was- when Harry had learned about the lack of choice Draco had had during the war- and the horrors he had witnessed inside of his own home. How kind and loving he could be- but would never admit- when he helped Luna take care of a baby Threstral with a broken wing, and when he bounced Teddy on his knee during visits to Andromeda. How when Zacharias Smith attempted to hex him, Draco deflected it with ease and smoothly made a remark on how he hoped Smith’s poor wand work wasn’t similar to… another wand he held in possession. And Harry couldn’t even begin on Draco’s appearance. Harry loved it when Draco tied his hair back into buns and ponytails, how he still dressed sharply but thanks to Pansy Parkinson now held piercings in his nose and eyebrow. He loved it how when all the 8th years had gathered for a sleepover, he had been able to see Draco, incredibly soft in a cotton sleep shirt and joggers. He loved Draco’s eyes, and how they could look so gently at Harry sometimes- even if Harry knew they were only seeing him as a friend. 

Harry was too caught up in his realization, that he didn’t hear the approaching set of footsteps.

“Potter?” A voice asked, and Harry’s head shot up in mortification. Tears were running down his face, and Harry knew he must’ve looked pitiful- skin all blotchy and sniffs escaping his nose. 

“What’s happened?” Draco asked, as he kneeled down to Harry’s level and hesitantly reached out his hand. There was so much worry laced in his voice that Harry nearly crumbled apart- Draco’s concern felt like a sick joke. From when Harry became close to him, Draco had never really been one to be demonstrative of his feelings; inklings of fear or rage were almost alway hidden behind a blank expression and clenched fists. Which was why it was so hard for Harry to look back up into that worried face, to see Draco show rare emotions that would never really mean what Harry wanted them to. 

“S’nothing, Malfoy,” Harry mumbled, cursing the coarseness of his voice. A hand cupped his cheek, forcing Harry to tilt his head upwards and face Draco fully. 

“Potter,” Draco said, eyes running over Harry’s messy face. Harry felt like curling inward- he shouldn’t let Malfoy see him like this- he was so weak and pathetic, how could Draco even bear to-

Harry short-circuited when soft lips were pressed against his forehead. “Tell me what’s wrong,” Draco whispered, as though he hadn’t uprooted Harry’s entire mind in a matter of seconds.

“You,” Harry replied, Draco started to move away, and Harry realized the possible implication of his words. Harry reached out his hand and wrapped it around Draco’s retreating wrist. “No- not  _ you _ \- it’s me, really, just-” Harry babbled, and then sighed, catching his breath. 

“I- you’re the problem, because-” Harry started, but the words were lodged in his throat. “Because I- I love you,” Harry whispered, and he felt horrified with himself. He slowly raised his gaze back up to Draco’s, preparing himself for the rejection to come. 

Draco, was looking at Harry like he had just slapped him. His mouth was slightly parted, eyebrows raised, and his eyes fixated on Harry’s own.

“You love me?” Draco asked, voice hitching at the end of his sentence. Harry released Draco’s wrist, but his hand was soon covered by both of Draco’s own.

“Don’t make me say it again, it was humiliating enough,” Harry mumbled, and to his own embarrassment, another tear escaped his eyes. A smooth thumb wiped it away, and Harry’s breath halted.

“You love me,” Draco stated, and Harry felt like combusting when he heard a chuckle come from the blond. 

“Just- fuck off,” Harry growled weakly, and Draco’s mouth quirked up into a strange smile. 

“You love me- and you want me to fuck off?” He asked amusedly, and Harry ripped himself out of Draco’s grasp.

“If you’re gonna take it as a joke-” Harry started, but was cut off again by lips- this time pressed to his own. Harry gasped as Draco’s hands clasped his shoulders, keeping him there while they kissed. What would have either been two seconds or an hour later- Draco pulled back. Harry felt like a deer caught in headlights, he couldn’t move- despite the warm feeling in his gut that told him to bring Draco back into himself. 

“I love you too, Potter,” Draco whispered delicately, and if Harry were not mere centimeters from Draco’s face he was certain that he wouldn’t have heard it.

“You-” Harry began, “you do?” He asked softly. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“ _ Yes _ . And I can’t believe I love someone so oblivious. Do I need to prove it again?” Draco questioned, smiling when Harry quickly nodded, and the two met again in another kiss- this time Harry wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulders and not standing frozen like earlier. 

“-’Mione he’s this way, just over- oh-” Ron’s voiced bounced off the walls of the corridor, coming to a stop when he saw the pair. 

“So you worked it out then?” Ron called to them and Draco groaned against Harry’s mouth. The two pulled away and Harry faced his friends, an embarrassed blush covering his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m ok,” Harry said, a small smile on his face. He glanced back up at Draco to see a flush covering his ears- the Slytherin pointedly looking down at his shoes instead of Ron and Hermione. 

Hermione was grinning joviality, while Ron had an awkward, yet genuine smile on his face as well. She gave Harry a small wave before taking Ron’s arm and walking them out of the corridor, ignoring Ron’s protests as to why they had to leave so soon. Harry found himself laughing and letting his head fall into Draco’s chest. Draco began to chuckle along with him, and Harry felt so full of adrenaline that he couldn’t help but kiss the closest part of Draco his mouth could reach- which ended up being the curve of his jaw. Draco laughed again, and Harry could of sword the sound was close to a giggle, and it was damn near the best thing he had ever heard. 

 


End file.
